


I Don't Need A Knight

by Emeraldawn



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, post 3b
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-17
Updated: 2014-05-17
Packaged: 2018-01-25 12:02:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1647947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emeraldawn/pseuds/Emeraldawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is just sick of being the damsel in distress</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Don't Need A Knight

**Author's Note:**

> GO TEAM SPARK!
> 
> This is the full version of my [mating_games](http://mating-games.livejournal.com/) entry for week one. This year I am smart and have them beta'd as soon as the voting ends.
> 
> So thanks again [killparakat](http://killpurakat.livejournal.com/) you found all the commas and beat them into place.

Derek stood in his bathroom doorway, watching Stiles clean the cuts on his cheek with the cheap paper towels he had remembered to pick up at the dollar store last time he went. He hadn’t cared that they were coarse, but then again, having Stiles use them as impromptu first aid hadn’t been his imagined use for the towels in the first place. Now, as he stood watching Stiles wince or hiss every so often, he wished he had thought ahead, of the comfort of slow-healing human packmates. 

“Damn it! What asshole aims for the face?!” Stiles tossed the blood-stained towel in the sink. “And just when my father was backing off some...”

“It’s not that bad-” 

Stiles shot him a look using the mirror. “Yes, well, we can’t all have freaky healing powers.” 

Stepping closer, Derek reached out toward Stiles, fingers a hair’s length from his pale cheek. “I can help, you know.”

Stiles gave a tight shake of his head. “I’m fine. You already got to play knight in shining armor once tonight.” Grabbing the used paper towels, Stiles turned away from Derek and tossed them into the old paint bucket Derek had scavenged for a trashcan. “I can’t do anymore tonight. Maybe I can get Lydia to help cover it up tomorrow before school.”

Derek followed Stiles out into his bedroom. It still looked as depressing and bare as when he first moved in. Derek expected Stiles to bolt out of his loft, but Stiles stood fidgeting with cuff of his sleeve, keeping his eyes focused on the items in the room and away from Derek’s face. The only items of interest in the room were a bed and a plastic storage tub for holding clothes. “I love the collage-dorm minimalist look you got going on here.”

Derek let out a huff, trying to gage Stiles. His scent was clearly distressed, a smell that Derek knew too well from helping hunt Stiles down. He may have sounded like his snarky sarcastic self, but he was missing the bite that gave Stiles his... “Stiles-ness.” 

“Your dad is not going to be mad at you. It’s not your fault you know.”

“Maybe not be _mad_. But needlessly worried? That’s him in a nutshell.” Stiles sat on Derek’s bed, scooting back until he sat crosslegged in the middle of it. “After, you know, _everything_ , he was just always there, never letting me get too far, taking time off work. You know, I caught him sleeping in a chair in my room a handful of times?” 

Stiles switched from fidgeting to picking at invisible hairs on his jeans. “Don’t get me wrong, I get where he’s coming from. I did the same thing after mom died. I remember calling up the station from my after-school sitter’s place and crawling into his bed, because I was afraid he’d be gone in the morning.”

Derek didn’t need to pretend to know what that felt like. He and Laura were the same after the fire. That instinct to keep tabs on each other and sometimes just needing the other near. Derek took a page from his old play book, sitting down on the floor, back against the bed, close enough to let Stiles know, silently, he was there for him. 

“I just hate knowing, that not even two months later, I’ll be putting him through it again.” Stiles rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands, trying to cover unshed tears, but making his eyes look red and puffy instead.

“But worrying about someone is part of loving them, right?” 

“Dude, I know! Any counselor I was dragged to told me that. I know Scott took it hard, slept out my window for a week before dad sent him home. And Melissa gave me that look, like she couldn’t bake cookies fast enough to make the pain go away.” 

Stiles took a deep breath. “And, yes, I know Lydia showed feelings for me that she would never admit to. And Isaac even acted like he had feelings for me. And you...why did you even come back, Derek?”

“Something my mother told me, and-” Derek’s mouth went dry. Somehow, even though he had already imagined this moment thousands of times, knew how it should go and what he should say, the words stuck to his tongue.

“Really?”

Derek raised his eyebrows at Stiles’s slack-jawed stare.

“Do you care about me, Derek? Are we friends?” Stiles sang the last word, waggling his own eyebrows. 

Derek lowered his eyebrows, giving Stiles the same scowl that he use to give Laura when she was doing this same thing.

“What’s wrong, Derek? You don’t want to be my friend?”

“No.”

“Oh.” Stiles visibly deflated, looking every bit the hurt puppy, even if he often teased Scott about using that as his default look. “Okay. I’ll just go-” 

Grabbing Stiles’s wrist before he could get out of Derek’s bed, Derek pulled Stiles toward him, resulting in them bashing their heads together.

Okay, so it wasn’t the smoothest way to start a kiss, but it did knock Stiles off track enough to take possession of his lips. 

It didn’t take Stiles’s brain long to join in and entangle his fingers in the small hairs on Derek’s neck, pulling him close. Derek inhaled deeply, the scent of Stiles and lust sharp in his nose. 

Derek shifted his legs, dragging Stiles down into his lap, fitting them as close as two fulling-clothed people could. The weight of Stiles pressed against his thighs and just felt right. Tilting his hips up, Derek’s throat rumbled at the feel of himself between Stiles.

Pulling away, Stiles breathed heavily. “Oh… _wow_.” 

“Wow?” Derek’s eyes followed Stiles’s tongue as it ran across his lower lip, leaving a wet trail.

“Wow. Just… _wow_.” 

“If I knew a kiss could reduce you to monocyclic sounds, I would have kissed you a long time ago.”

“‘Wow’ is good, you know.” Stiles tilted his head. “How long ago?”

Derek shifted under Stiles, giving his crotch a little more room. “Before either of us became a knight in shining armor.”

Stiles gave a little snort. “That sounds cheesy when you say it.” 

“Oh, really?” Derek lifted one brow. “Because I was about to call you my hero, and ask if we will live happily ever after.”

Stiles’s grin was infectious as he tossed his arms over Derek’s shoulders. “I think we are all overdue for some happily ever after.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can follow me [here](http://emeraldawn.tumblr.com/) for random reblogs and the off chance I post something of value.


End file.
